Intimacy

by Mattie Bowman

  My heart splintered inside my chest, and before I could let the tears stream from my eyes, I drove home as fast as I could. The whole time in denial of what I’d seen.

  I couldn’t lose Quinn. I loved him.

  And I knew he loved me too.

  I settled in front of the computer again, eyeing the same resort site I’d been staring at before.

  That felt like weeks ago.

  If Quinn was seriously contemplating divorce, it had to be because of how I’d acted in these last few months. A shell of the woman I used to be. I needed to remind him of who I was. Show him I wasn’t prepared to lose him without a fight.

  The longer I sat and stared at the computer screen, the image of the two of us at the resort grew clearer in my mind. We could relax and talk to a professional. We could have some much overdue fun and rediscover each other. Find out if we were still the two sixteen-year-olds we’d been, or if we’d grown up so much we’d never find our way back to each other.

  The professional help could change his mind. Or perhaps, both our minds.

  Clicking on the picture of the exterior of the resort, I grinned.

  Inhibitions was the answer.

  Quinn just wouldn’t have to know about it.

  2

  Quinn

  “I can’t believe you’re already in a rental on your way to the resort!” Blaire shouted through the phone Tara was holding from where she sat beside me as I navigated the car up the steep mountain path.

  “I can’t believe you’re still in your pajamas,” I said, sparing her face a glance that filled up the screen. She was gorgeous, just like her mother. The only thing she got from me was her sense of balance. “It’s two o’clock there!”

  Blaire shrugged, and I returned my eyes to the road, following the path I’d looked up earlier. Tara turned the phone back toward herself, the smile deepening as she set eyes on Blaire. That smile, it still had the power to twist my insides into a warm knot of energy. Always had. And that’s why I’d shelled out extra on a rental car with WiFi. I knew she’d want to call Blaire on our way to the resort since we hadn’t gotten a chance to tell her before we hopped on a plane.

  “You can’t fault Mom for being on Facebook now, can you, Daddy?” Blaire’s sass had been ingrained in her since birth, but now she used it as the confident woman she’d become. Didn’t matter, I still found it absolutely adorable. “She never would’ve won a two-week stay if she hadn’t seen it in her feed!”

  Tara shifted her weight in the seat next to me. I was ready to get to the place, too. The plane ride hadn’t been long, but it was cramped.

  “All right, enough about that,” Tara said. “How are you doing?”

  “Mom,” Blaire said, and I didn’t need to take my eyes off the road to know she’d rolled hers. “We text nearly every day. I’m the same as I was last night. Tired from the workload but otherwise unscathed. You worry too much.”

  She one-hundred percent did.

  “You’re so far away, Blaire. I can’t help it. I want you to be happy.” There was a heaviness in her voice I’d noticed ever since we’d dropped Blaire off at school three months ago.

  I had hoped the strain of her absence would’ve lessened by now, but I knew it didn’t help that I’d been working long hours at the warehouse recently. Though, if my plans worked out, only a few more months of hard work and I could cut way back—maybe even entirely back. I’d kept it close to the cuff because when the time came, I wanted to surprise Tara with early retirement, and an endless array of time to plan out the rest of our lives.

  “What’d you say the name of the resort was again?” Blaire asked, a clever distraction technique she’d developed from me.

  Tara shook her head. “I didn’t. We’re almost there, honey. We’ll call soon to check in!”

  “Not too soon, Mom,” Blaire said. “I’m fine. You two have fun. You deserve it.”

  “Yes,” I said in the direction of the phone. “Your mother is long overdue a vacation.” I spared Tara a glance, and her cheeks reddened. The sudden flush sent a thrill through my core, and I upped our speed a fraction.

  “Love you,” Tara said, and I mimicked her declaration to Blaire before she hung up the phone. A heavy sigh slipped through Tara’s lips, and it was almost as if I could feel the ache in her heart that mirrored in my own.

  I missed Blaire every second of the day, but it hadn’t hit me like it had Tara. And I thought giving her space before pressing her on the issue was the best plan of action. It usually was. Tara never was one to be pushed. She’d just dig her heels in deeper and wouldn’t come out of herself until she was good and ready. We were a lot alike in that way—plus, if I got my way, we’d have a whole lot more time together soon where I could help distract her.

  The silence between us grew heavy in the car, and I wished the knot my tongue was twisted into would loosen the fuck up. We’d never had a problem talking before—of course our conversations had consisted mainly of what we were doing or had to do revolving around Blaire or the business—but still, I couldn’t put my finger on why we were having so much quiet time now.

  I hoped it was simply the absence of Blaire and missing her, and not something deeper lurking between the beats of everything we weren’t saying. We were only thirty-four, and I was this close to retiring us—we had time to rearrange the way our lives fit.

  We have time.

  “There it is!” Tara popped the silence bubble as she pointed to the large log cabin that looked like several mansions put together.

  Snowcapped mountains painted its backdrop, making the rich, warm tones of the wood the resort was constructed from pop. There was a bite in the air that was pleasant as I stepped out of the car in front of the resort, not cold like I’d imagined the mountains to be. Despite it not being winter I had assumed this high up it would always be colder than I’d like, which was barely at all.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Norris,” a young man with black hair said as he held the door open for Tara.

  I knitted my eyebrows, glancing from him to Tara in a silent question of if we were wearing nametags or not.

  “I’m Anderson,” he continued, “and I’ll be your butler for the remainder of your stay at Inhibitions. Anything you need at all, I’m only a call away.” He flipped his wrist, and three more staff members filed out behind him, all wearing the same black cotton uniforms, and went to retrieve our bags.

  “Butler?” I eyed Tara who just smiled politely as I came around the car to stand next to her. I nearly put my arm around her waist, but what had once been a natural movement between us was now awkward, and I kept my hands at my sides.

  When had we gotten to this point? Could she feel it too? Is that why she’d been so quiet lately? So…distant? Or was it just me?

  “Yes, sir,” the kid said, and it made me feel a million years older than I actually was. “If you’ll please follow me inside we can process your final paperwork and then I’ll show you to your suite.” He motioned toward the inside of the resort, which rested beyond the large rock archway we stood under. I glanced up at the name carved into the rock before following Tara to the giant doors.

  “Papers?” I whispered to Tara once I’d caught up with her in the grand lobby which had more of the luxurious wood I’d practically drooled over outside. The staircase looked like walnut, and I couldn’t wait to run my hands over its exterior to find out if that was true.

  Tara smiled softly and shrugged, stopping to tap her fingers on the marbled front desk as Anderson went behind it. After a few minutes, he’d printed off several forms with our names on them. I glanced them over before eyeing him.

  “NDAs? Non-Liability Claims?” I gestured to the forms in front of us. “What kind of couples retreat is this?”

  Anderson arched an eyebrow toward Tara who cleared her throat, and parted her lips.

  “A very naughty one,” a man said from behind us before she could answer.

  I turned toward the voice. He had long
black hair that was tied into a braid across one shoulder—like I had seen Blaire wear all throughout middle school. On him though, it didn’t look nearly as girly, nor did the black eyeliner that outlined his eyes. Was he a rock star guest at the resort?

  He shot his hand out toward me, and I shook it, slowly. “Grant,” he said as if that was supposed to mean something. His gray eyes darted to Tara as he took her hand and planted a kiss on the back of it. “Owner of Inhibitions?” He said it like a question.

  My eyebrows raised up as I shook his hand again, this time more quickly. I gestured to the area around us with my free hand. “Were you involved with the build? Because I admire your woodwork.”

  Grant grinned which reminded me so much of the Cheshire cat in that movie Blaire had made me watch a thousand times when she was seven. “I was, yes. All cultivated from locally grown trees. I wanted the resort to feel as if it hadn’t been constructed but simply grown from the ground as if the goddess Aphrodite herself had planted it.”

  I quickly nodded, dropping his hand and followed Tara’s actions of signing the paperwork before us.

  “Quinn is a lover of all things wood,” she said before another flush raked her cheeks and she chuckled nervously. “I mean,” she said, sighing. “He’s a carpenter.”

  I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing.

  “Nice,” Grant clapped me on the back. “I love having a man around who knows good wood when he sees it!” He darted down the hall just off the front desk, stopping before he pushed through a door. “I’ll see you two soon!” He winked at Tara before closing the door.

  Anderson scooped up the signed forms and filed them behind the desk before coming around to stand before us. “Is there anything I can get you two before I show you to your suite?”

  Tara and I glanced at each other in question before shaking our heads.

  “Excellent. Follow me, please.” Anderson walked assuredly toward the grand, wooden staircase and my fingers itched. I sighed as I placed my hands on the railing, slowly caressing the walnut—I’d assumed correctly—as he guided us up the stairs. By the time we’d reached the third floor, I caught Tara glaring at me before quickly replacing the look with a calm mask.

  What the hell was that about? I knitted my eyebrows, wondering what I’d done wrong, but as she smiled when Anderson let us into our room, I decided I must’ve imagined it.

  The room was as lavish as the exterior of the resort, with wood paneled walls, a full marbled kitchen, and a patio with a Jacuzzi that offered the most incredible view of the mountain tops I’d ever seen.

  “Whew,” I whistled, checking out the view as I shoved my hands in my pockets. “I’m so glad you won this stay,” I said, grinning at Tara. Even with the business as successful as it was, I doubted I’d be able to afford a suite this nice.

  “Won—” Anderson started before Tara cut him off.

  “Is the restaurant open now?” she quickly asked. “I’m starved.”

  His green eyes jumped between the two of us before he nodded. “Yes, Ma’am. All of the resort’s establishments are open twenty-four hours a day seven days a week.”

  “Perfect,” she said and turned to me. “Are you hungry?”

  “I could eat.” I shrugged, more wanting to stretch out on the king sized bed I could see through the opened door to the main bedroom. The thought of having her next to me, in a bed with nothing on the schedule but eating made my mouth water. It had been too long since we were able to focus on just us.

  Painfully long, actually.

  A ball of anxiety twisted deep in my gut as I realized I couldn’t remember a time we hadn’t had to rush through sex in order to get some sleep, get some place, or get something else done.

  Maybe food wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

  Shit, I almost feel like a virgin again.

  “Please feel free to enjoy the evening as you have nothing scheduled until your first session with Grant tomorrow.”

  “Session?” I asked. “What kind of session?”

  Anderson opened his mouth, but once again Tara jumped in to explain, “Grant isn’t simply the owner of this resort…” She licked her lips as if she needed the moment to collect her words. “He also offers help to couples who stay here. He sets up special fantasies for us to…take part in.”

  Help…like counseling?

  I arched an eyebrow at her. “Do we need these sessions?” I asked, suddenly terrified she thought we were so bad off we needed therapy.

  “Of course not,” she said and shrugged like I was a silly little boy for asking. The motion made me stare at her harder, wondering who exactly I was dealing with. “Thank you, Anderson,” she continued. “Could you tell us where to find the restaurant?”

  Anderson handed Tara a small map of the resort and pointed out the main restaurants we could choose from. There was also a nightclub, pool, gym, and spa on site. Plus, a whole two levels of floors labeled “Wonderland Rooms”.

  I’d never heard of a resort that offered “sessions” and “fantasies” though those didn’t sound too bad when I thought on it a minute. Probably should’ve googled the place on the plane ride over, but it had all happened so fast I hadn’t bothered to question it.

  I’d come home late from work on what was supposed to be our “date night” and had found her packing my bags. For the briefest second, I thought she was kicking me out—the ice-cold terror had shot through my veins but quickly died when she kissed me on the cheek and explained how she’d won a trip off of some Facebook promotion. It had taken a while for my heart to start beating again, despite knowing she had no real reason to kick me out.

  Except that we’d married when we were eighteen because we had a two-year-old. And now that two-year-old was a grown woman at college. The glue that had once cemented us together was miles away.

  Yeah, just that.

  I rubbed my palms over my face, forcing the thoughts away. I hadn’t blinked when she’d purchased our plane tickets, and though it had taken some serious quick work on my part to cover the warehouse, it had been worth it.

  This trip with Tara was long overdue—just like I’d told Blaire. She deserved a vacation, a getaway where she was the sole focus. I hoped she’d visit the spa every damn day and do whatever made her happy, and then maybe, by the time we went back home, that distance and unease between us would be gone.

  “You ready?” She asked with her hand on the front door.

  I hadn’t even realized Anderson had already left. I’d been so lost in my own thoughts and worries over making Tara happy. It’s all I ever wanted to do…all I’d ever wanted to do since we were sixteen.

  “Yeah, honey,” I said, and wished the pet name I usually called her by wasn’t so thick on my tongue. It’s like the anxiety had become a living breathing thing between us since Blaire went off to college, and it thrived on making every time I got Tara alone awkward as fuck. She was my wife, damn it. I shouldn’t be nervous around her. Knowing this, I sucked in a slow breath and tried to remind myself this was a vacation. “Let’s go have some fun.”

  3

  Tara

  “Where is your carpenter?” Grant asked after Anderson had led me into his office.

  Grant’s long black hair was pulled up in a tight man-bun, a black, paint-splattered T-shirt covering his chest, and leather pants completing his rock star look. The bare feet made him more approachable somehow, that and the fact that he was currently splashing paint across a giant roll of canvas that hung from the ceiling to the floor on the wall farthest from his desk.

  Despite the openness of the room, and his uncanny ability to make me feel comfortable even though I was here for…therapy—I still didn’t know how to answer the question. From my research, I knew Grant was notorious for sniffing out phonies and exploiting them for their true intentions, and I didn’t want to be one of those people. So I wrung my hands and went with honesty.

  “He doesn’t exactly know about this resort.”

  Gra
nt arched a perfect black eyebrow at me, stopping mid splatter with a large cup of royal blue paint in his hand. “What do you mean?”

  I chewed on my bottom lip, wrapping my arms around myself. Was I about to get us booted from the place before we’d even experienced anything?

  “We’ve been married since we were eighteen, and pregnant two years before that,” I said as if that would explain everything.

  “I know, Tara. I read every piece of information you submitted. Including two sets of personality tests. Are you saying…”

  His eyes pierced mine, and I realized I’d hit a nerve. One I hadn’t meant to. Damn it. Why did I choose to be honest? I should’ve lied.

  He set the cup of paint down on the tarp-covered floor, the thing wrinkling under his toes as he approached me. “Tara,” he said my name like he was scolding me.

  “I have to know.” Tears burned the backs of my eyes. “I don’t know if I’m enough anymore. I honestly don’t. I know he loves me, but…” The image of him walking into the divorce lawyer’s office flashed in my mind. I swiped at the water under my eyes and rolled them. “I’m sorry. I found your resort and thought…” I sucked in a sharp breath.

  Grant pressed his lips together and gently gripped my shoulders. “Come on, now. Don’t cry.” He tilted my chin up to force me to look at him. “Tell me why you kept the tests and the basic concept of my resort from him.”

  “I didn’t think he’d go for it. And I truly don’t want him to know I’m doubting myself. It’s not like insecurity is the most attractive quality, and after eighteen years together, the first thing I want to be is desirable, and the second is needed.”

  “And loved?”

  “I know he loves me. We fell in love when we were kids. Then we had one, and our focus shifted. Now that she is away at college, I want to know if we can reconnect with those two who couldn’t keep their hands off each other.”

  Grant stepped back toward his canvas wall, his eyes contemplative.